


The Dream That We Chose

by ElectronicFerret



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectronicFerret/pseuds/ElectronicFerret
Summary: A brief interlude between when Cassandra returns and leaves again.
Relationships: Cassandra/Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel, Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	The Dream That We Chose

After it’s all over, they stagger back into the bedroom, exhausted beyond sense.

Cassandra can vaguely hear Eugene barking orders at the guardsmen somewhere over her head, but her ears are still ringing and her legs are nearly ready to give out and it’s hard to pay attention. Rapunzel -- _Raps_ , Cassandra thinks, clinging onto the name like a lifeline -- really isn’t much better off. Somehow the three of them make it to the bed in an uneven tripod. Presumably they all pass out at some point and are left alone, because Cassandra’s slumber goes undisturbed until she wakes up naturally.

Probably naturally. Every limb feels like lead and her eyes are cemented together and it is a _colossal_ effort to do anything besides breathe for awhile. She can feel Rapunzel’s left hand gentle resting atop her right, hear her breathing softly; she can vaguely hear Eugene snoring quietly behind that, arm curled around them both and hand resting underneath Cassandra’s head (and she has _no_ idea what to make of that). 

When she finally manages to convince her eyelids to open, grimy and sticky with sleep, she’s face-to-face with an already-awake Rapunzel. The twinge she thought she imagined in her side turns out to be Rapunzel’s right hand, ghosting tentatively across her torso, back and forth. It’s nearly enough to leave Cassandra breathless, especially when she sees an absolutely _devastating_ pair of green eyes gazing right back at her, hardly inches away. Instinctively, she closes her right hand, gentle as she can manage (is it still damaged? She doesn’t know.).

“Hey, Raps,” Cassandra rasps. It must not sound very reassuring, because Rapunzel’s eyes glimmer wetly the moment she speaks.

“Cassandra,” Rapunzel whispers. The hand settles across her side, light as a feather. “Oh, _Cass_ . I missed you. It’s been so long. You look so -- so _worn._ When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

Slept? Cassandra knows she’s done that a few times. Shelter improvised in a tree in the forest, stretching awake in the sunlight and the breeze outside the black rock tower, resting in the ruins of every home she’s ever known. The hazy fury that Zhan Tiri kept stoked in her didn’t blur all her memories. She must have eaten at some point, surely? She knows she remembers sleeping. (Along with every assault she orchestrated, every death she was responsible for -- nothing kind enough to soften those, of course, she’ll never forget what she’s done -- )

Cassandra becomes distantly aware that the hand counting her ribs has instead moved up to her face, patting loosely with increasing fervor. Rapunzel’s voice, soft but urgent, comes up muffled from underwater. “--Cass? Cass, come on, stay with me, _please_ \--”

Her lungs are tight and hot and she can’t breathe. Her arms and legs are too heavy to move but in perverse contrariness to her limbs she feels lightheaded and dizzy. She might be sick to her stomach except there’s nothing there to be sick _with_ . Cassandra shuts her eyes tight, gripping fiercely onto Rapunzel’s hand for some kind of grounding, feeling suddenly adrift. Rapunzel’s other hand, the one that was patting her cheek, moves up to instead stroke her hair in a calming gesture. “Cass -- Cass, it’s okay. It’s okay, we made it. It’s _over_ . It’s really over. We’re safe, we’re all safe.”  
  
Safe and _alive_ , and now she and Eugene have something in common, because she _died_ . Cassandra died and came back, and she’s laying here in the twilight of a half-destroyed castle, with Rapunzel combing her fingers through her hair and Eugene wrapped around them both (and she _still_ doesn’t know what to do about that). Somehow they’ve come out the other side of this, mostly intact. Despite what she deserves. Gradually, Rapunzel’s mantra and the hand running through her hair loosens the weight in her chest and she can breathe again.

“Sorry,” Cassandra whispers, and the word contains multitudes. She hopes at least some of them come across. Rapunzel smiles in return, all soft and tearful, and Cassandra nearly loses her breath moments after catching it. That’s… that looks like forgiveness, she thinks.

She’s content to leave it at that, and evidently so is Rapunzel, because they just sort of... exist for awhile. The hand stroking her hair rests on the side of her face. It’s a nice feeling. Cassandra is disinclined to move under any circumstances, and Eugene is still snoring away, their brief exchange evidently not enough to disturb his slumber. She’s too tired for all the proximity to send her heart racing, or maybe she’s just… done with everything, for the moment. It’s nice to just _be_ , without being angry, or envious, or wary. 

She can’t help but make a vague noise of disappointment when Rapunzel slowly eases her way out of the pile they’re all tangled in. Barefoot, Cassandra notices. She herself is still in the form-fitting bodysuit left over from… before. And Eugene is still layered up in the stiff guard captain’s outfit, boots on and all. She’s surprised he managed to fall asleep against the starchy fabric, but they’ve all had a long day. Series of days.

“I’ll get us a platter from the kitchens,” Rapunzel says in an undertone. Cassandra doesn’t miss the way she bites her lip in hesitation.

“I’ll be here,” Cassandra promises. The small smile she gets in return is worth it.  
  
Mostly worth it. Moments later she has the realization that Rapunzel’s departure means she’s alone in a bed with Eugene, and _that_ makes her want to vomit. (Which is weirdly comforting in a way; at least some things haven’t changed.) 

She wants to keep her promise, but nothing said she had to keep sleeping on Eugene’s arm, so she scoots back a bit on the bed. Besides, he’s probably lost feeling in it by now, and that’s bound to be uncomfortable when he wakes up. Cassandra’s being generous by moving, really, even if she misses the contact for some unfathomable reason when she settles her down onto the cool blankets instead of his outstretched hand. 

He doesn’t look too bad, honestly.

She _must_ have lost her mind. 

But no. Eugene had seemed -- noble, for a bit. She could _see_ it in him, the way she saw it in the ranks of the guards who eventually became sergeants and captains, in the way she saw it in traveling knights when they visited the kingdom. In the way she saw it in her father. He’d been fierce, ready to fight and go on the offensive… and then he’d reached out a hand to her, at the end of everything, when he’d had no reason to, not even for Rapunzel’s sake. He’d been ready to kill or imprison Cassandra for the sake of the kingdom -- but the moment he didn’t _have_ to, he’d set the grudge down and welcomed her back with open arms without even a hint of hesitation. 

What the _hell_ did it all mean?

The spiral of her thoughts keeps her busy enough that Cassandra doesn’t notice Rapunzel re-entering; she nearly leaps out of her skin when the tray of food clatters down onto the bedside table. She rolls over, instinctively reaching for a sword she no longer has, muscles screaming at the movement and heart racing. She grapples blindly for a moment before Rapunzel hastens over to her, reaching for her hands soothingly. “Cass, it’s me! Sorry, sorry, it’s just me, I brought some food --” 

Cassandra exhales sharply, lowering her hands. A shudder runs through her; she shakes it off with effort. “Right. I… don’t know if I’ve got much of an appetite, Raps.”

The look she gets in return -- pity, or grief, or _something_ \-- nearly breaks her heart all over again. Rapunzel slides herself back onto the bed, and Cassandra finds herself nudged forwards until her head is rested in Rapunzel’s lap. That’s… that’s not too bad, she thinks, although it certainly isn’t making her stomach feel any more settled.

“Please, Cass,” Rapunzel whispers, running a hand through Cassandra’s hair again and _oh that’s not fair_ . “Just a little bit? I got a whole bunch of different things so you can find something you want. Just… eat a little, please. You’re so pale and I can count your ribs and -- and we _just_ got you back, and…” 

Cassandra raises her hands in open-palmed defeat. “Alright, alright, I’m convinced.” 

She lowers her hands again, taking a sideways look at the platter a few feet away. Cubes of cheese, slices and bits of fruit, crackers, some sliced meats. _Overdoing it as usual_ , Cassandra thinks fondly, and it’s a good clean thought, clear of any of the acidic resentment that had eaten at her gut for weeks, months now. She’d missed this; missed Rapunzel’s eagerness and warmth, steady and reliable regardless of the situation. 

Cassandra’s thoughts become distinctly _un_ clean when Rapunzel nimbly plucks a grape off the tray and presses it to her lips. She’s too shocked to do anything other than make a vague noise of surprise.

“You waited too long,” Rapunzel replies smugly, tapping a finger on the end of Cassandra’s nose for emphasis. “You’re welcome.”

Cassandra eats the grape without argument. She doesn’t even complain when Eugene -- finally roused from slumber -- pulls up behind Rapunzel, arm wrapped around her waist and a faintly amused expression across his features. 

(If he _does_ say anything, she’ll kill him.)  
  



End file.
